


God Forgive My Tasteless Tongue

by Qpenguin98



Series: Pizza Boxes and Unspoken Promises [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Dubious Consent, Foster Care, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, Trans Keith (Voltron), but like, honestly this is just pure angst im sorry, honestly this is the most ooc thing ive ever written and im sorry, not in a bad way, or not the way youre thinking, well this happened, youre welcome hamn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-11 18:52:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7903804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qpenguin98/pseuds/Qpenguin98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lance looks like he wants to tear himself apart, and Keith wouldn’t be surprised if he already was. He rests a hand on his cheek, and Lance looks at him like he’s just been stabbed.</p>
<p>“Why did you think that would be a good idea?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	God Forgive My Tasteless Tongue

**Author's Note:**

> this is for hamn, who told me the last fic didn't have enough angst

Keith has noticed how Lance is gentle with him, like he might break if he touches him too roughly. His kisses are gentle, the fingers running through his hair are gentle. The way he asks permission to do anything with him is so soft on Keith’s mind, a stark contrast to the way he’s treated at home. Harsh words and slaps greet him there, less so if he’s quiet and keeps his door shut.

Sometimes he’ll disappear from himself, forget he’s still breathing, stop feeling the things around him. He does his best to keep it from Lance, his prodding questions. He can still speak during times like that, so he blames it on more sleepless nights.

When Lance touches him it feels good, but he’ll forget that it’s Lance sometimes. Hands on his shoulder and hands on his hair send cold spikes of fear down his back, and if he doesn’t move, maybe he won’t get hit this time. Lance talks him back into reality and Keith apologizes too many time to count.

When Lance want to get touchier, under shirt, under pants, Keith doesn’t say no. He doesn’t, not really, he really doesn’t want to be touched like that. But their relationship already revolves too much around what he is and isn’t comfortable with, and he’ll grant Lance this, even if he feels like vomiting after, leaves his body during.

Lance will ask if he’s okay with what he’s doing, and Keith will nod, whisper a yes, and allow his hands to wander up and under shirts and binder and underwear.

It’s never as bad when Lance is on the receiving end. He can handle pleasing Lance, because he’s not the one being touched in ways that makes his skin crawl. He’s the one making those sounds come from Lance’s mouth and it’s almost enough to make the other part bearable.

Almost, but not quite.

\---

Keith stays after with Shiro every Thursday. They drink tea and talk about whatever and usually it’s good and comfortable.

Not today.

Today the air is different. Keith holds his tea silently, eyes downcast. He wants to know what he should do, but that nagging fear of ‘Shiro is a teacher this isn’t something you ask them’ keeps buzzing in his mind.

“Is anything wrong?”

He almost drops his tea.

He can phrase it differently, seem like he’s concerned for someone different.

“If… someone you know is in a relationship, right? A committed one where both the people care about each other a lot and try to make sure the other is comfortable with whatever they’re doing. If that relationship turns sexual and one of the people in it is completely uncomfortable with it but doesn’t say no, what is that?”

“Unhealthy,” Shiro says immediately. Keith looks up at him. He’s looking at Keith like he’s staring through his soul, he knows.

“But if the relationship is so heavily concerned with what that that person is and isn’t comfortable with, and they just want their partner to have something for themself, and they say yes and encourage it and enjoy doing… things to the other person, they just hate it for themself, it’s not, right?” His face is burning.

“Keith you- this _person_ shouldn’t feel the need to put themself in an uncomfortable position, especially sex, to keep their partner happy. It’s borderline sexually abusive.”

“But I’m not saying no!” He almost shouts. And then claps his hands over his mouth, trying to suck his words back in.

Shiro is quiet as Keith thinks through what he says next. “I promise you Lance is doing every possible thing to make sure I’m okay and this isn’t his fault in any way. If I asked he would stop but I just, I feel like I control too much of our relationship and if he’s happy with this then I should be too, right?”

“What do you mean you control the relationship?”

He downs the rest of his tea, just to do something painful. It’s too big a drink and too hot for him, and he swallows down the pain with a wince. “I… he always asks before he does anything. If he can touch me at all, if he can kiss me, if he can… can… I forget that he’s the one high fiving me or touching my head sometimes and I just freeze up because, because if I don’t move maybe it won’t be as bad this time. And he stops what he’s doing to bring me back to what’s real and I can’t just have him do everything I can do this one thing for him, and if I try hard enough I don’t feel his hands on me anymore and I just disappear for the while and in the after I can feel everything and I want to throw up but I can’t because then everything would be ruined and… and… I…”

He’s digging his nails into his arms, drawing blood.

“Keith, you need to talk with him about this. You’re putting yourself through something traumatizing just to please him and that’s so bad, considering your situation already. You know he’d understand if you told him. I actually think he’d blame himself a little. “

“I… Shiro I can’t it would ruin everything.”

“No it wouldn’t. Lance understands you. He would never think less of you for this.”

“This isn’t really something to bring up with a teacher, is it,” he laughs a little.

“I told you that you could come to me with anything, and I meant it.”

Keith snorts and smiles. “I guess.”

\---

They’re sitting together on Lance’s bed, his head on Keith’s shoulder, and it’s nice. Lance presses a lazy kiss to his neck, and he can handle this. He can handle things like make outs and hickeys and other things Lance might do, but when the clothes come off, it’s a whole different story.

“Lance,” he starts, and then immediately stops, because he’d rather feel his insides die every time Lance touches his uncovered chest than explain himself through this.

Lance immediately sits up, though. He knows the mood’s changed from comfortable to serious and is completely prepared to tackle it headfirst. “What’s up?”

“It’s nothing,” he says too quickly, too forcefully, and Lance actually locks eye contact with him.

“You don’t bring things up that are nothing. What’s wrong?”

He mumbles his answer so quiet even he can’t make out what he’s saying.

“What?”

“Can we not… have sex anymore?”

He’s looking at the bedsheets and he feels Lance’s surprise that then turns into confusion.

“Wait what? I mean yeah, of course I just, why? Did I do something? Am I not… Am I not good enough for y-?”

“No! No that’s not it at all. It’s me, I promise it’s me. It’s always me,” he rushes to assure. Shiro was right, Lance would blame himself.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I don’t- it doesn’t feel like… i-it feels like,” he makes a hand motion up and down his torso, choking on his words. “It’s not good… it makes me feel uncomfortable and sick and I kind of rely on avoiding being able to feel for it and I’m so sorry I just wanted you to have this one thing,” he ends up rushing out.

Lance looks downright horrified. “You mean this whole time you… you just wanted to make me happy with that? You- I fucking, you didn’t want any of it I- I ra-”

“No! No you didn’t because I said it was okay and you didn’t know. You didn’t know so please don’t blame yourself.”

Lance looks like he wants to tear himself apart, and Keith wouldn’t be surprised if he already was. He rests a hand on his cheek, and Lance looks at him like he’s just been stabbed.

“Why did you think that would be a good idea?” His voice is wet and shaky and oh no. Keith can’t handle it when he cries. He ends up crying himself, and he’s not the victim in this situation

“Yes you are,” Lance whispers harshly, and he realizes he said that aloud.

“Lance I’m so sorry.”

“You shouldn’t even be apologizing. You shouldn’t even still be dating me. I can’t believe I forced you through that.”

“You didn’t force me through anything.” He kisses Lance gently on the mouth, and Lance jerks his head back.

“How can you stand to do that after I-”

“Because you didn’t do anything wrong. I just wanted to make you happy and it was wrong and stupid and awful and I’m sorry.”

Lance rests his forehead on Keith’s and breathes in shaky and deep. “So we’re, okay?”

“We’re okay,” he answers back.

“What do you not… want me to do?”

“No under the binder stuff or in the pants. Everything else is fine and if it isn’t I’ll tell you.”

Lance looks like he wants to start crying again.

“But just on me, okay?”

Then he looks confused. “What?”

“I didn’t… mind doing things to you I just don’t like receiving, I guess.”

He lets out a wet laugh. “I don’t think I want to do any of that for a while right now.”

“Okay,” Keith says small-ly. He still feels week and dumb and stupid for not having mentioned it before.

Lance brushes a thumb over his cheek. “Don’t think you can’t tell me this stuff, dummy. I care about you and I don’t want to make you feel like that again.”

“Okay,” he says, closing his eyes.

\---

He’s out in the rain, bleeding and bruised, unsure what’s from his foster parents or his own self at this point.

He can’t go to Lance like this. There’s open cuts on his arms. He told him that he’d quit months ago. The bruises on his face are swelling, and there’s blood in his mouth, and suddenly this home is just as bad as the last five.

He doesn’t know what to do, so he pulls out his cellphone that he’d saved months for and kept the job just to keep paying it.

Shiro had given him his number, for a just in case situation. Just in case he ever felt the need to use it.

It’s two thirty in the morning, and he prays to god that Shiro’s an insomniac.

It rings and rings and rings and Keith hops his leg on the bus stop seat.

“Keith? It’s two in the morning, is everything okay?”

And suddenly his words are gone, choking on air.

“Keith?”

“Can you…”

“What is it?”

“I need help.”

It’s hard to be so honest to him, this teacher that’s made sure he’s okay every day for the past eight months.

“Where are you I’ll come pick you up.”

He gives the street names and hangs up, waiting.

When Shiro pulls up, the rain has slowed to a light drizzle, landing harmlessly on Shiro when he gets out of his car. He takes one look at Keith and pulls him into his car, wrapping him in a blanket that’s appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Keith tries to decline.

“I don’t want to ruin it,” he says, worried about the blood and the rain.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says stiffly, eyes focused on the road.

“I’m sorry,” Keith says a little while later, when he assumes they’re reaching Shiro’s house. “I shouldn’t have called this is completely inappropriate you could get in trouble.”

“Did you think I was going to leave you bleeding on the street?”

He doesn’t answer that.

He takes him to the bathroom when they get there, pulling out medical supplies, and Keith briefly wonders if he’s done this before.

He takes his arm gingerly, face grim. “You should get stitches,” he says flatly. “But I know you’re going to refuse them.”

He nods, unable to speak.

“You certainly did a number on yourself,” he mutters to himself, wrapping the cuts gently. Keith can’t look at him, eyes hot with shame.

Then he turns to his face. “What the hell did they think you did to deserve this?” There’s a split on his lip and his cheek. The bruising is tender as he cleans them.

“They went through my phone.”

Shiro thinks for a second. “So?” He prompts.

“‘So’ who the fuck is Keith.”

Shiro’s hands falter and he nearly flinches back, closing his eyes instead. “I’m sorry,” he says, setting the washcloth down.

“It’s fine,” he says casually. “Not like it hasn’t happened before.”

“Keith-”

“I’m honestly impressed I was able to keep it a secret for this long. The longer hair probably helped. The boyfriend probably helped. Because ‘those fucking trannies gotta pick one or the other,’ right? If I like boys, then I’m just a straight girl right? I’m not real, I’m not Keith, I can never be Keith because it’s never safe. I’m never safe enough to let my guard down. I thought I could exist as Karen at home and Keith everywhere else, but it never works out. Of course it has to bleed into the other parts. I just need to find the right person to fuck it out of me. Right? That’s how it works that’s how I survive I pretend I’m something I’m not until I die and even then I’ll just be Karen on whatever grave I get no one will, I… I-“

He heaves in a sob, biting his lip to keep from letting it out. Shiro pulls him into a hug and Keith startles.

“You- you shouldn’t you could get in-”

“I don’t care what trouble I could and couldn’t get in right now. You need a hug and I’m giving you one.”

He accepts in, resting his head on Shiro’s shoulder.

“I just wanna sleep,” he mumbles, throat thick with emotion.

“I have a couch you can sleep on. Or the bed if that isn’t-”

“Couch is fine.” He won’t encroach on Shiro’s living space more than he has to.

“You should let Lance know why you won’t be home for him to pick up tomorrow.”

Fuck, Lance. He’s right, but the thought of him seeing him like this tomorrow is scary.

He shoots Lance a quick text saying that he was at Shiro’s right now for the rest of the night. That things went bad at home and he’d see him in the morning.

He falls asleep when his head touches the pillow.

\---

Shiro drives them both to school, lending Keith one of his hoodies.

Lance is there before them, waiting anxiously, and he nearly attacks Keith when he gets out of the car.

And then he looks at him.

Really looks at him.

The bruising and the split lip and cheek and the way he’s holding the sleeves down too low to be normal.

“They found out.”

Shiro ducks out as soon as possible, allowing the two of them privacy.

Keith gives a shaky nod, and Lance engulfs him in his arms, careful of the bruises. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m alright.”

“You can’t go back there.”

“Lance-”

“No. After this you can’t. I’m not letting you go back to that shit hole of a house, Keith.”

“Where am I supposed to go?”

“Stay with me until graduation. Please.”

“I’ll stay with you tonight, but I have to go back. I’ll get moved again if I don’t. You know that.”

“Keith…”

“I’ll tell them it was a mistake, that I was wrong and I don’t, that it’s Karen and that I’ll do better because I have to I need to Lance I can’t leave here, not again. I might as well just not be Ke… not be, I have to go home.”

He’s shaking he’s shaking he’s shaking there’s a hand on his shoulder and he draws back into himself, covering his face with his hands.

He hears a voice, maybe two, and he leaves himself completely. He can’t feel anything, can’t hear anything, can’t speak, and he thinks he might be dying.

Maybe it’d be better like that.

It’s a long, long time before he comes back to himself. And when he does, it takes him a second to realize that he’s in Lance’s car. It’s one o’ three in the afternoon, he notes, and Lance is driving.

“Hey,” he says and Lance looks over at him, a fake smile gracing his lips.

“Hey.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, looking out the window. They’re a long way from home, nearing the ocean by the looks of it.

“Don’t be.”

He looks down to see the jacket off, arms rebandaged. He shoots a questioning look at Lance.

“You started scratching them open in the parking lot. There was a lot of blood. Shiro came back out. Told me that he’d talk to admin and to just get you out of there.”

“Lance I’m-”

“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry. Don’t apologize for your fucked up life because _none of it_ is your fault.”

They’re both quiet.

“I stopped and grabbed some things from your house. I know you say you have to go back, but this isn’t good. You can’t stay there, it’s killing you.”

He doesn’t say anything, knowing full well he has to go back if he wants to stay here. He won’t tell Lance, he’ll just go tonight when he’s sleeping.

“I know you’re thinking of going back tonight when I’m sleeping. I’m not an idiot.”

Keith jumps, eyes wide, unable to form words. Lance takes his hand.

“We have to stop for gas, do you want anything while I’m inside?”

He says a small no and waits for him to go into the small shop before dialing the number to his foster mom’s phone.

It rings for a second and then picks up.

“Karen? Is that you?”

He takes a breath. “…Hi mom.”

“Oh god we were so worried about you when you ran out last night. Your father and I did a lot of thinking about it and-”

“No I… I was wrong. You were both right about it, the trans thing.” He stops, closes his eyes, takes a shaky breath. “I was doing it for attention, and I know that now.”

“I was hoping you would take something from last night.”

“Yeah you really helped me realize it.”

“You’ll be back tonight, right?”

“I was actually wondering if I could stay at Lance’s tonight?”

“Karen-” her voice is dark and he clutches at his seat.

“I understand, but I still need to explain it to him, and he’ll just be worried until I do. I have to make him understand that it was fake, that I was lying to him, or it won’t be good.”

She sighs. “Alright, when you put it that way I can’t refuse. But I expect you home directly after school tomorrow.”

“But mom tomorrow’s Thursday-”

“No exceptions.”

It’s the voice she uses before he gets hit and he sucks in a sharp breath.

“I understand.”

“I love you, sweetie.”

“Love you too, mom.”

He hangs up the phone and holds it tightly in his hands. Lance has been listening for about half of the conversation, and he holds the gas pump too tightly.

The drive to the ocean in silence, and Lance holds him as he sobs.

\---

He goes back home the next day, smiling and laughing and repeating that he’d made a mistake and that they were right all along. They smile and laugh with him and order pizza and watch a movie together.

He answers to Karen gladly and ignores the spinning sick feeling in his head.

He has to.

He’s no longer safe.

\---

The next Thursday, Keith skips out on after school talks with Shiro again, even if his foster parents didn’t say anything.

He opts to sit in the bathroom, shaking, curled around himself.

He sends a single text with the word “Sorry” to Lance.

He slits his wrists deep and drowns himself in red.

He doesn’t expect Shiro to slam open the stall door just as he passes out.

\---

When he comes to, he’s assaulted by bright lights. Everything’s white around him and it’s just bouncing the light into his eyes. He lets out a groan and covers his eyes.

Something cloth like scratches against his face and he looks to see wrapped arms.

There’s an iv in his arm.

He’s in the hospital.

Oh.

Everything comes rushing back to him and he groans in frustration. He feels something shift to his left and looks down to see Lance half lying on the bed.

He rests one of his hands in Lance’s hair, comforted by the familiar sensation. It’s still too bright, but at least it’s quiet, save for the beeping beside him.

As Lance wakes up, Keith moves his hand from his hair to his cheek, brushing his thumb over the skin gently. He leans into his palm and Keith smiles a little.

And then he wakes up fully and practically tackle hugs him.

“You’re an idiot, did you know that? You’re stupid and that was stupid and- and you- I can’t believe you thought that that was smart I mean Keith I-” his voice is cracking and wobbly. “I was so scared you fucking idiot.”

“I’m okay,” he says quietly. “It was stupid, but I’m okay.”

“You’re not, though. You keep saying you’re fine and going back to that place and here we are in the god damn hospital after you tried to kill yourself!”

“Lance-”

“No! I’m not gonna accept that! You’re not okay, Keith! You can’t go back to them.”

“You don’t get it! If I say a word to my social worker, I’m getting moved. I’m not going to risk that over this, this, this thing that’s happening at home! If she hears about this, and she’s definitely going to hear about it, I’ll be on even closer watch. Oh my god I could get moved for this. Ohhhhhh my god I’m such and idiot this is the worst idea I’ve ever had I’m so stupid.”

He presses the heels of his palms to his eyes and puffs out a breath. “This is my fault if I get moved I’m so sorry Lance, I don’t want to leave you, I don’t want to leave here, fuck.”

“What are you?”

Keith looks up at him, confused.

“What?”

“You’re worried about me and my feelings after this? Keith, babe, I need you to not do that for a second.”

“I don’t get it.”

“You need to think about yourself for once. You keep trying to make me happy, I just want you happy. I want you safe. If that means you have to move, I can deal with it.”

Keith blanches. Lance is fine if he moves. He’s… okay with him disappearing. He’s okay with-

“You don’t… you don’t want me to stay.”

Of all times, he never though Lance would tell him this _now._

“Kei- no you misunderstood.” He takes his face in his hands and forces eye contact. “I want you here. I want you to stay here with me so badly it hurts. But I want you to be safe and if you have to move with that, I’d put the effort into keeping us together long distance. Keith, I love you. I love you fucking much and I want you here so bad and I want to see you every day and I want you to be safe and be you and I’m so glad you’re alive.”

He’s not going to cry today. He’s cried an unreasonable amount this month already. He feels the sting and the wetness but refuses to give in to it. He rests his hands on top of Lance’s and kisses him.

“Thank you,” he says in a whisper, and he can feel his throat seizing up, and he will NOT cry goddammit.

“Can I let the others know you’re okay? They’ll probably come up after school gets out.”

“Yeah, I want to hear how Hunk and Pidge’s project is going.”

“You- you just wanna see if Pidge added your stupid alien tracker.”

“It’s not stupid if it works.”

They bicker like that, comfortably, until the others show up. And then it’ another round of hugs and almost crying and Pidge answering that yes, they are working on Keith’s stupid alien tracker. And yes, it will probably work.

**Author's Note:**

> WAS THIS ANGSTY ENOUGH FOR YOU  
> i hope so bc its so ooc im crying why did i writet his its three in the morning and it been some days writing this i am wooo


End file.
